oh i most DEFINETLY need c!bucky x reader making a sex tape
I need that too😩 thank you for this request, bestie✨
word count: 3.2k
warnings: smut, dirty talk, sex on film, finger sucking, slight spitting, squirting, fingering, slight masturbation f and m
tags: @bucky-soldat @thewritingdoll @meetmeatyourworst @sparksforkoo @fuckandfluff @buckydaddy @harrysthiccthighss @bemine-bucky @greeneyedblondie44 @stucky-my-ship
a/n: This contains slight feels because I couldn’t resist a sweet tone before the raunchiness and after.🙈
Meeting Bucky in college is one of the highlights of your life. The moment you laid your eyes on him, you knew you were gone, lost in the sea of blue that sparkles with mischief. His smile, his laugh, his utter presence is enough to make you feel overwhelmingly infatuated. And he’s just as hooked on you as you are him.
You give him a high that every drug he’s tried couldn’t compare to. You’re so kind, sweet, innocent. But, Bucky knows you better than anyone and he found out real quick that the doe eyed look, the sugar coated tone, the cute pinks and pastels that adorned your sinfully curved body weren’t the extent of you.
You’re a vixen. Craving sex just as much as him. It started one night in your dorm, lazily watching a movie with wandering hands and soft touches. You two didn’t fuck, no, he made love to you. Cherishing the way your warm walls sucked him in, the way he felt your soft breath on his neck each time he filled you to the brim, brushing that sensitive spot inside you each time. Bucky poured every ounce of passion he has for you into those thrusts that night.
Each day you spend together, the closer you both become. Bucky’s your friend, your lover, your heart and you came to trust each other with anything and everything. The sex became more frequent and adventurous. He’s tied you up, slapped you, fucked you as if you were nothing but a doll for him to empty himself in. No matter if he’s rough and degrading, if he’s sweet and soft, you want every form of the pleasure only he can give you.
When he comes to you with an old school camcorder in hand asking if you would make a tape with him...how can you resist? The thought of being exposed to a lens for Bucky’s viewing pleasure has your core thrumming with anticipation. “Of course I will, Buck.”
You’re standing in the middle of the courtyard when he voices his idea to you. Students drift along around you, making their way to their next class not paying you two a bit of mind. He takes his lip between his teeth, trying to bite back a grin that’s trying to form. “Oh, baby. This will be so hot.” He groans, pulling you in by your waist.
Bucky brings his mouth to your ear. His warm breath breaks across your skin as he whispers, “You’re gonna look so beautiful for the camera as I pound that tight cunt.”
Heat breaks out along your body as he says the crude words. You playfully shove his firm body away from you. “Bucky, we’re in public,” you smile.
“Hasn’t stopped us before, sweets.”
You scoff at him. He’s right. The amount of times he’s taken you in the library and in every janitor's closet he can find is embarrassingly high. You always fall victim to his touch, no matter when or where. “Get to class, Barnes. I’ll meet you at your dorm later tonight, okay?”
With a quick kiss goodbye, you watch as he makes his way to the history building with the bulky camera in his hand. It’s hard to tell where he found that thing. He’s always had a knack for vintage items. It’s very fitting of him to want to incorporate something like that in the bedroom. And you can’t wait to try it out.
Night settles over the campus. The dim sidewalk lights illuminate your path as you sneak over to Bucky’s dorm. You always take the back entrance with the key your conniving boyfriend somehow got his hands on. Bucky has the key to your dorm as well, each of you taking turns during the week visiting one another.
As you make your way up the stairs to his floor, you can already feel arousal strumming through you. You’re excited to create something so debauched with him. You have a suspicion that Bucky doesn’t want this tape to be gentle and loving tonight. Which makes you all the more needy and wet at the prospect of being fucked.
Knocking on his door gently, you wait for his answer. You hear shuffling before the ugly wooden door swings open revealing a practically naked Bucky. He’s wearing nothing but tight black boxer briefs that cut off above his mid thigh. It’s moments like these that he leaves you utterly breathless. His lean body stares back at you, beckoning you to run your hands over the expanse of his abs, his chest. You just want to sink your teeth into those thighs. Wrap your mouth around that slight tint straining against the fabric.
“How many times have I told you not to knock? My place is your place.”
His voice brings you back from your wondering thoughts. “Buck, you know I don’t want to just barge in here unannounced.” You say, walking past him and into the small dorm. His smell envelopes you and settles so deep in you, you swear you can feel it in your bones. Warm notes of amber and a slightly citrus aroma is what makes Bucky, Bucky. You’ll never get enough of his scent. He’s compelling in every sense of the word.
His bed is bare. Nothing but a mattress sits on the wooden frame. You quickly see where all the blankets and pillows went. There, across the room, sits his comforter and throws on the floor, meticulously placed with care to look inviting. His pillows are propped up against the wall creating a little cove hidden in the low light of his lamp. A makeshift tripod compiled of books sits at the end of the comforter near his TV stand with the camcorder opened and ready sitting on top of his world history textbook.
You feel him slip his arms around your waist, pulling you into his warm body. Bucky dips his head down to your ear. “You can’t really do much in a twin bed. Figured if I was gonna make a sex tape with my beautiful girl...I’d need all the room I can get.” You lean into him, appreciating the thought.
Bucky always plans ahead when it comes to you. He wants nothing but the best for you. He can’t wait to graduate college, get his degree and give you the life you deserve. A life where he gets to fuck you in a king sized bed instead of the stiff twin beds in your dorms and, in this case, the floor he desperately tried to make comfortable.
“It looks lovely. Leagues better than these dumb beds.” You tell him as you turn in his grasp. Leaning in, you take his lips with your own, slowly moving in time with each other before he deepens it. The feel of his tongue against yours has your panties dampening. Each lick into your mouth has you chasing more of his taste.
You kick off your sneakers as he pulls your sweats down, not once breaking the kiss until he pulls away to get your tee over your head. Bucky’s chest seizes. You look heavenly with your naked breasts bared to him, with your white panties adorning a tiny pink bow accentuating your mound and hips and your little white ankle socks.
Your beauty is something he only witnesses when he watches the rain, when he looks at a field of flowers, when he glances up at the night sky and sees the twinkling stars above. It causes him to pause and wonder how God created something so painfully intricate that makes his heart stop and makes all his thoughts cease to exist as fascination takes its place.
You watch as Bucky takes you in with a slack jaw and a glaze in his eyes. Just barely above a whisper he chokes out, “You’re beautiful.”
He tells you millions of times how attractive you are and shows you his love just as many times. But, this. This seems heavier. Those two words have a weight of longing to them, a weight of pure awe and admiration. Your love for him just grew, something you thought would be impossible because Bucky Barnes is perfect in all aspects of life.
“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, my pretty girl.”
His words hold a sick promise as he leads you down to the floor on the bed of blankets. He props himself against the wall and beckons you to join him. You situate yourself between his firm thighs, feeling the hardness of his dick against the small of your back. You lean into him as he pulls your hair to the side, giving him perfect access to latch onto your neck.
“Take off your panties,” he whispers against your flesh. His mouth licks and sucks at every part of your heated skin he can get to.
You roll the sticky fabric down your legs as you eye the camera placed directly in front of the both of you. When you fully peel your underwear off, Bucky’s legs twine with yours, pulling you apart and spreading you open for the lens. “Spit on your cunt. Get her nice and wet for me.”
Oh God. His instructions cause you to clench around nothing. You bend your head down to spit towards your pussy, watching as the saliva slowly trails over your mound and down over your lips. Leaning back against him, Bucky emits a groan as you see his hand slide down your body, creating little goose bumps along the expanse of your skin before his fingers dip down to your core. You moan at the feel of his fingers rubbing slowly and purposely over your swollen clit.
With each twist of his wrist, you’re whimpering, chasing his movements with your hips. Heat takes you over, sparking at the base of your spine before inching its way towards your neck as his friction gets a little rougher. Suddenly, his fingers breach your opening, the middle and ring giving you a delicious stretch. Each drag against your walls has your thighs trembling from the sheer pleasure.
Bucky grasps your face with his free hand and angles your head to the camcorder. “Keep your eyes on the camera, baby. Want you to fall apart for it. Can you do that?”
A strangled, yes leaves your lips as you bask in the ecstasy he’s bringing you. His grip keeps you in place as he takes you apart. The thrusts of his fingers become harsher, more frantic as wetness spills from your drenched center, causing obscene noises to bounce off the walls.
You can’t run from his assault, he’s got you pinned against him fully, one hand buried in your pussy while the other holds a vice-like grip on your cheeks. His mouth continues to work over your neck, biting and sucking as he brings you closer and closer to your impending climax. You’ve never been so worked up and this orgasm is starting to feel vastly different than the others.
“Bucky,” you cry, “Bucky, stop. I can’t. It’s too much.”
“How are you gonna take my cock when you can’t even take my fingers? Just let go, baby.”
The pressure is building with each thrust of his hand. His pace gets rougher causing your chest to bounce violently and cries to escape your throat. You’re shaking, abdomen pulling taut as his fingers hit that spot inside you just right and that pressure releases, forcing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.
Bucky watches in awe as you squirt for him, trembling in his hold as the clear liquid seeps from your abused cunt. “Oh, fuck. Look at that. My girl’s a squirter.” He says against your neck, but he knows you probably can’t understand anything he utters to you at the moment.
He rubs his hand along the length of your drenched heat, soothing you from your intense high. Tremors wrack your body with each pass of his hand over your swollen bud. Your head rolls to the side on Bucky’s shoulder as he peppers kisses all along the side of your throat and face.
He brings his wet digits to your mouth, rubbing them along your bottom lip before you open and take them between your lips. You lick and suck, tasting your juices on his soft skin. He fucks your mouth with his fingers, watching as you take them down your throat, gagging slightly. It causes his dick to twitch as he feels the sweet suction of your mouth.
He takes them out, already missing the feeling of your tongue dancing along the pads of his fingers. “You’ve been keeping that hidden from me?” He chuckles near your ear, causing a smile to break across your blissed out expression.
“I didn’t even know I could do that...those hands of yours work wonders.”
“Mmm. That they do. You got one more for me, pretty girl?”
Are you capable of cumming again? You honestly don't know. Every nerve feels shot, your head hazy with Bucky invading all of your senses. But, with him, you know you won’t last long when he buries himself inside you. He’s too good at sex, too good at making you feel whole and sated. You don't know if it’s him, or if it's you and how infatuated you are with him that makes him talented in the sheets. Whatever the case, cumming will always be in your foreseeable future. No matter if you think you can or not.
“Yes,” you breathe, “want to feel you in me.”
Bucky lays you down sideways, making sure you’re both angular to the lens before he discards his boxers. He's impossibly hard, an ache settles in the pit of his stomach as he takes in your body beneath his. Your cunt is puffy, thighs shining with your arousal, the blankets are soaked under your form. You’re gorgeous when you cum for him, submit to him and give him your pleasure.
You watch as he moves his hand languidly over his shaft, his tip red and leaking, veins straining against the soft skin. His mouth hangs agape as your hands move to grasp your breasts, pushing and pulling them together to give him a little show. Bucky groans as you continue to play with your full chest. He can’t take anymore of the foreplay, he needs you wrapped around him.
He taps your clit a few times with his swollen head, causing you to let out a squeal and shake with each light smack. It doesn’t take much to get his cock wet, no. Your pussy is practically crying, begging for him to give her that stretch she needs.
Bucky lines himself up to your entrance. He takes his sweet time entering you, watching intently as you try to accommodate his length, basking in the huffs of frustration because you just need him to fill you to the hilt. You’re squeezing him so tight. He can’t believe how wet you are. He believes you enjoy this little camera idea a little too much. Filthy girl. His filthy girl.
“Buck...move. Please,” you pant.
With a slow roll of the hips, he’s pulling himself out before plunging back into you with a pointed thrust that sends you jolting back. “Fuck, just like that,” you tell him. He continues the gentle movements with the rough snaps of his hips that have you gasping and clinging on to him. You keen with each stroke, your hands make their way down towards his ass, gripping and shoving him deeper inside you.
Bucky pulls back to unhook your legs from his waist. He grabs the backs of your knees, folding your legs back slightly so he gets a good look at where you’re connected. Sitting on his knees, he starts a punishing pace. The angle he has you at, you can’t move away from his onslaught. His fucking you with vigor, his grunts filling the space around you.
“Such a pretty pussy. Always look so good stuffed with my cock, baby.”
Your toes start to curl, legs aching from his hold and from their suspension in the air. As he continues his erratic pace, your climax grows with each pointed thrust that hits a spot inside you only he can reach. Out of nowhere, he halts his movements and pulls out of you.
“Bucky,” you whine. You need him back inside you to dim the ever growing heat.
“Hold on, sweets. Don’t worry, you’ll have your cock and cum on it too.”
You eye him as he leans over to grab the camcorder. He’s holding it in his hands now, angling it to point at your mound. He slides in you once more, filling you up immediately, giving you that full feeling you so desperately need.
Leaning back on his knees, he tells you, “Ride my dick, baby. Fuck yourself.”
A moan escapes you. You do as he said. Using your heels as leverage, you start to move yourself up and down on his thick shaft as he sits perched on his knees and records the scene unfolding before his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. Want you to cum like this. Wanna feel those wet walls pulse.”
Your hand goes down to circle your clit much to Bucky’s pleasure. He loves watching you get yourself off, especially filled full with his leaking cock. Your arousal slides down to his heavy balls. This is torture, for him and you. But, he knows watching you fall apart while using him will be worth it and you know that this orgasm is going to tear through you.
It’s too erotic. Using him to get yourself off while he sits and watches through that square screen. It has you quickening your movements. You’re unhinged as you hump against him, swirling fingers aiding in bringing you to your peak. The coil is tightening with each buck of your hips, winding up until you're shaking. You pull taut as you sink down on him, filling yourself up as your orgasm courses through your body. Tears swell in your eyes as the intense high takes over.
Bucky can’t handle this anymore. The feel of your walls fluttering around him, like a constant heartbeat, almost makes him spill his seed into you right then. He tosses the camcorder to the side, not caring to capture anymore footage for the night. He braces his hands above your head and starts to rut into you fiercely, chasing his climax.
Now it’s you who let’s him use your body for his pleasure. You lay pliant underneath him as he buries his face into your neck, biting into you to muffle his cries of pleasure as you feel warmness fill up your sore, overworked pussy. You rub his damp back, letting him relax against you as he empties himself.
You hold him to you, enjoying the feel of his weight pinning you to the floor as you both try to catch your breaths. “You did so good for me,” Bucky whispers. He pushes your hair off your face before kissing your lips. It’s slow and sloppy, all tongue and no effort. He pulls out off you and watches as his cum leaks out of your center.
“I’ll never get tired of filling you up.” He groans as he moves to get you a cloth to clean you up.
You lay there and stare at the ceiling for a moment before he returns, pressing the warm hand towel against you, ridding you of his spend. It’s a shame really. You want to stay filled with him. He picks you up and carries you to the mattress. Placing you down on the less than comfortable twin bed, he goes to his closet again to retrieve a spare blanket.
“Luckily, I have plenty of covers. Mom made sure of that.”
You smile as he climbs in the small bed with you. He presses you against his chest as the fuzzy blanket covers your naked forms. Even without pillows and a sheet, you feel yourself drifting off in Bucky’s embrace. He’s your source of contentment. Your beacon. Your everything. You don’t ever want to leave his side. Not when he’s this warm.
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Coming In Hot
— Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
— Summary: When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be.
Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem.
A hot, polite, gentle and silent-type of problem.
Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.
— Word count: 7.8k
— A/n: If you enjoy it, feedback is appreciated & highly encouraged and motivates me to write even more. mistakes/errors might be here, let me know if you find any.
◦➳ soundtrack ♫ ◦➳ nyx masterlist ◦➳ join my taglist
Series Masterlist — Previous Chapter
It takes you a few more days to organize everything you want, but once everything is set and ready, the photos you take for your page week can be easily classified as some of the best work you’ve done so far.
Thanks to tricks taught to you by a photographer friend and the few videos you gathered the patience to watch on Youtube years ago, you transforming any space — small or big — in a good scenario for pictures came easy to you, and that definitely helped you build up such a clean, “professional” image.
Artistic bullshit aside, the shots were stunning.
You spend a good hour hyping yourself up to the fact that these are the same shots as before, but it's evident in the lighting, the posing, the sheer sensuality that each of them owns.
You were inspired.
It was impossible to deny when the evidence was frozen in time.
gPictures of your foggy breath against the bathroom mirror, bathtub pictures with water dripping on your skin, and a few props around the house and you had enough to content to last you at least two months.
Between one scenario and another, you catch yourself thinking about a stain of grease running down your back.
Maybe on your cheekbones, matching the black lace covering your body.
That was a dangerous road and quickly, you shook yourself out of those thoughts.
Bucky has nothing to do with this is clearly the first bullshit you try convincing yourself of, but as soon as you do, you flop back onto your mattress with a defeated sigh.
The fact that you wanted to take that excuse in said it all.
At least whatever flame Bucky lit up under your skin resulted in all those nice shots.
You may not have a model's body, but your page as well as many others that you followed which did the same work as you did wonders for body acceptance and positivity, unlike what many people would expect.
The point was that the more you felt sexy in your own skin, the more others tended to do so, too.
You meant what you'd said to Sarah when the two of you met—employing other people with the job of liking or finding beauty in you never existed in your dictionary.
Your life's biggest blessing was, perhaps, that you enjoyed your own company.
After you finish editing, saving in their respective folders, and creating a schedule for posting them, you sit on your kitchen counter still in panties, bralette and a robe, a sandwich in one hand, and a lecture being plaid on your ear pods.
The heavy textbook on your hand is a good reminder of why making an extra few hundred bucks (nearing a thousand, depending on the month and your inspirations) every month meant everything.
You had a long way to go, and unfortunately living on this earth costs a lot, all the time.
Until the end of the week, you'd have another large bill to pay and you'd rather be able to do it without having to live off of noodles for the foreseeable future.
(Buying a new gloss since yours had ended before you saw Bucky again didn't sound half bad, either.)
i have something extremely important to ask u
that sounds ominous and v serious. is it srs
bc i'm under a car rn and i dont fancy hitting my head
are u abt to hit me with existential crack again
i havent had coffee yte hold on
lmfao theres no need for coffee
i was about to ask who on earth typed
those first messages of yours to me. 'cause it sure
has hell wasn't you. proper punctuation, capital letters and all...
do u use siri sometimes or what
i'm sorry that's so funny to me somehow???
how tf do u notice these little things is beyond me lol
it was peter. i was under a tight spot in a car and
asked him to type the messages for you
ah! makes sense.
speaking of the young padawan: has he
solved my riddle yet?
no and i am loving every sec of this lol
he went from 'riddles are just LoGiC , BuCKy' to
'why is lady bullet allowed to write things on the
office board through you, anyway???? no one else
is allowed to do that' and today morning he was screaming inside my office '
THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE I REFUSE
TO BELIEVE THERE'S AN ANSWER' so yeah
thanks for the entertainment
you all figured it out, right? :D
yup. gabe was the last one. now he passes peter and
laughs under his breath like an asshole
i think the kid might have a heart attack soon if we dont tell him the answer
let him marinate for a little longer!
as paramore once beautifully put
'that's what you get' <3
you know, when i asked u for a tip on how to punish
him for calling my favorite book dumb i didnt think you'd
actually find something but i am glad you did
it's hard to find someone as smart as peter
me n all the boys all thank u v v much.
he needs an ego trim every now n then
happy to help, sarge :D
Some people thought what you might hate the most in the subway was the crowd and the dirtiness — everywhere you looked, it seemed like a health hazard — but instead, it was the fact that you were under the ground.
Small or confined (or heaven forbid, both) spaces were not your thing.
"Thanks for coming with me, S."
Sarah adjusts her coat on the seat by your side and gives you an easy smile. "Duh."
Standing in front of you, AJ turns his GameBoy screen to you.
"Like this?" He asks.
You analyze the game screen and note with excitement that he followed your instructions and got himself in the hidden spot you were so familiar with. "That's it!" You lifted your hand for a high-five, which he gave with a smirk. "Nice job, kiddo."
"Can we go for ice cream before you two drop us off at uncle Sam's?" Cass asks, bumping his sneakers into your boots.
"Your ma and I told you we're taking you both for burgers and milkshake before we go to work, mister," you smack your teeth at Cass, and squeeze his cute little chin for good measure. "This is what you get for walking around with those damn pods all day and not listening to us."
"Hear hear." Sarah eyes Cass with 'i told you eyes'. "He knows very well what's gonna happen if those things seem permanently stapled to his ear very soon."
"I'm sorry, I was watching the new One Piece episode," Cass shrugs apologetically, and you and Sarah exchange looks at his sheepish and adorable face trying to gain sympathy with pleading eyes.
"Am I a bad TT for buying him those instead of that book I know he was gonna like?" You ask Sarah with a pout.
"Nah, he just needs to learn how to use his present without excluding himself off of the world, which we've talked about for the last time last night, right?" Sarah asks Cass.
Cass nods dutifully, and AJ shares a look with you above the exchange, then goes right back to his game.
Those small little looks are one of the things that make you feel the most at home in the city that feels too big for you sometimes. Truly being Sarah's friend meant being close to her kids, too, and being her best friends came with the benefit of being seen as an "auntie" for the cutest kids you had ever met.
"I can listen to music on the way there, right?" Cass asks, buttering up a sweet smile.
Sarah rolls her eyes. "Duh." Cass puts the ear pods back on and Sarah looks at you, sensing that their attention is fully on their little world now and she can go back to the conversation. "So—what was the reason again? The excuse you were giving me about why you can't invite him to your celebration day?"
You sigh deeply, feeling that anxious flutter inside your chest at the coded hidden question about Bucky.
"S. He's a life-saver and we're definitely... acquaintances, but that doesn't mean he's gonna want to come next month to a barbeque to celebrate 'little old me'." The last bit is a jab at Bucky's constant reminders of how much older he is than you, but Sarah doesn't know that.
"Why not? He's super close with my brother, you two now know each other," she prompts with an indulgent tone.
"Would you invite Amree for your birthday?" You ask her in return, changing your tactics.
Sarah was about to talk but stops with her mouth half-open at the mention of the handymen from her building.
You'd seen him the last time he was there, exchanging googley and dopey eyes at her.
The way she stuttered in the kitchen looking for the ingredients despite claiming she "doesn't need help to bake some cookies, babe, please".
"That. Is a completely fair point." She shuts her mouth and looks ahead of the subway.
A little part of you feels bad for being so surgical to get your point across, but Sarah was the only person in your life currently able to see right through you.
The only reason she still threatened waters around you to ask about Bucky, despite having seen on your face the clear signs of a crush, was because you were logical and as far she knew, you and he were mere acquaintances.
For some reason, how much you two have been talking is something you keep to yourself.
You nudge your arm against hers. "He'll just forget about me and my pretty car as soon as we're outta there today, S." You make an effort to sound playful, and not downright disappointed at that fact. "I don't wanna invite him for something he'll feel outta place in weeks. You told me he likes company that he knows, right?"
Sarah nods, a small pout on her face. "Yeah." She pulls AJ out of the way of a musician walking with an instrument and almost knocking it on the boy's head without meaning to.
"I've only seen him around the unit." Sarah looks at you. "He always comes to stuff Sam asks, but that's probably 'cause he's best friends with Steve and Sam and Steve are... well. You'll see."
You recognize in her scoff and tone that this is something you must see or speak of when not in the presence of already sentient and smart younger ears.
"But even then I've heard him say he's not big on parties." Sarah sighs. "Guess you're right, then."
An announcement for a cool super-hero movie pops up in one of the screens close to you both, and the rest of the way is a pleasant and fun conversation about movies that at some point, AJ and later Cass end up joining.
That's how you four arrive at Barnes Auto—nerding out, bundled up in cozy jackets for the chilly October air and with flushed cheeks from laughing.
The first one to see you guys is Peter who, this time, is standing at his working place.
"Sargeant! Incoming for you." He yells loud and clear, smiling at all of you. "Steve, get here," he adds in a voice a little lower, but loud enough to be heard through the noises of the mechanic shop.
"Hi Peter!" you say, echoed by the same greetings from Sarah and the boys.
He's coming around from behind the receptionist counter to say hello to the boys when you finally get to properly meet the infamous Stevie.
Out of the room behind the reception comes a blond man as tall and built as Bucky, with a thick beard and beautiful sand-blond hair.
His smile is contagious, and he waves excitedly at Sarah and the boys before pinning his piercing blue eyes on you.
After cleaning his hand on the rug on his shoulder, he extends it. "You must be Y/N. Nice to meet ya, I'm Steve."
"Neet to meet you, Steve." You shake his head, ignoring the hollering and laughter coming from behind you from Peter and the kids. "Last time I dropped by you were stuck under a beautiful 60s Camaro with a painting gun on your hand, so I didn't wanna bother."
"And also Buck told you to ignore the idiots on his shop, so," he points at himself with a doofus-grin.
Before you can find out a way to reply to his teasing, the boys come to wrap around Steve's legs.
"Hi uncle Steve!" says Cass.
"Uncle Steve, Y/n taught me how to pass that phase I told you about, d'you wanna see?" AJ asks excitedly.
"Of course I do, little guy!" Steve gives you a nod with raised eyebrows that kind of say 'nice one, Y/n' and then he's guiding both of the boys back inside the reception room, keeping up with both of them speaking at the same time.
When you look at where Sarah and Peter are still standing, both of them stop their conversation to look at you.
"Oh! Sargeant's waiting for you, Y/n." Peter smiles at you. "You remember where it is, right?"
"Yeah, I do."
"I'm gonna catch up with Peter, you go ahead," Sarah tells you when you direct your gaze to her.
With a nod to the both of them, you turn around and walk further inside to the back patio you're growing used to.
Madeleine Peyroux is the first thing you listen to as you get close to the place where you know Bullet is parked.
That's from your pen-drive, and you know it.
When you finally cross the arch separating the shop from the open back, you can see Bullet shining on the left side, and Bucky sitting behind the open door of an old Volkswagen beetle.
His eyes widen at the sight of you, and you smile up at him.
You'd texted earlier it'll be at least a couple of hrs till i'm there. gonna stop by n get S and the kids! but once you got to Sarah's house, everybody was dressed and ready to go, already, which meant you were at least an hour earlier than he expected.
"You're early," says Bucky, stopping the work he's doing to give you a small smile.
"The crew was ready when I got there," you shrug, doing a weird little dance bowin with your legs when he smiles back pleased at you.
Bucky laughs at you, entirely delighted.
It makes you blush, but that's something he's become quite good at even if he doesn't know it.
You turn around to Bullet, thankful he probably can't see it from this far. "I see you're still enjoying my sound system," you gesture towards your car blasting Etta James now at full volume.
Bucky's garage is well-built enough that the rooms feel like separate atmospheres.
On the reception and the first two areas of the shop all you heard was modern rock'n'roll that you, unfortunately, failed to recognize, but here at the back, Etta singing "Stormy Weather" was all it could be heard.
"You have a really good taste in music," Bucky nods and kind of bows to you with his upper body. The approval over your music makes you giggle.
"I can't lie, that's a pretty straight-up fact," you nod back at him.
Bucky laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corner. You start moving closer to Bullet, wanting to take a better look at her.
It's clear the boys had washed and pampered her up.
"I had a pretty good crash course with her, I think." Even without seeing him, you can feel Bucky getting up from behind the car he's working and start moving to where you are as well. "I saved all the new artists I heard on her on my playlists."
Tracing your fingertips over Bullet's hood, you look back up at him.
"Many new choices?" You smile.
"Many," he stops right in front of you, and opens that side-smile that makes your heart a little weak. "I listened to pretty much the same stuff since I was kid before I went overseas, then I spent a good few years without listening to the top 40s if you know what I mean, so I was really out of the loop."
For someone who, according to others, loves being in silence or keep as short as possible, Bucky sure seems willing to offer you a lot of information, willingly.
"Not anymore." You knew from all the back and forth you two have had the past week that Bucky absolutely adores Paramore, Hozier, Frank Ocean, among many other artists.
Bucky nods along to you, a smile intact on his face until he seems to remember something and exclaims. "Oh! Steve's not trapped under a car today. He said something about talking to you about your good car choices, so don't leave before I've gotten a chance to introduce you two."
"He was at the reception room, I just did," you chuckle. "AJ and Cass have stolen him, unfortunately."
"Ah." Bucky smacks his teeth. "Their Uncle Stevie has to give them attention before he's allowed to spend time with the adults."
"They seem to really like him."
"They do. Steve won them over before they learned how to talk," Bucky scoffs, looking fondly in the direction where they all are. "I still remember the first time they called him uncle Steve," he adds with a far-away tone, smiling turning softer. "That man was so happy." Bucky scoffs again, chuckling to himself. "Punk."
Sam and Steve are... well. You'll see.
"Oh!" you exclaim out loud, a pin suddenly dropping in your brain, connecting one snarky comment to another.
The memory of Sarah on the first year you two met each other, sitting on a balcony staircase during a party and telling you all about her stupid brother and how he and his stupid best friends were stupidly in love with each other, but blind as a bat to that fact.
Bucky snaps his head to you.
"It's him!" You stage-whisper, leaning closer to Bullet and to where Bucky is. "When I met Sarah at Nila's party she was talking about her brother's best friend, who he served with after Riley decided to drop out of the course, and who—" you stop talking, altogether, shutting your lips tightly together. "I'm not going crazy, right? It's Steve?" You whisper to Bucky.
Bucky's looking at you with a funny expression, and when he answers, it's in a whispering tone, too. "His best friend who..."
"C'mon, you know," you giggle.
Bucky licks his lips, and looks away from you with a chuckle. "Everyone who knows those two knows, yes." When Bucky looks back, it's with a know-it-all smirk. "One day they'll figure it out." He shrugs his shoulders. "And I'm Stevie's best friend."
You roll your eyes at him. "God, I can hear the fights you and Sam have had about this," you chuckle.
"Only a couple. Until one of them decides to leave the idiot zone and smack the other in the face with a kiss, he's gotta be content with being best friend number two," Bucky widens his smile at you. "I met him first."
"Called dibs on him, did you?" You tease.
"Sure did, darlin'." Oh, lord. There it is again. Darling. "Plus—one day Sam will be 'husband' and I'll be the one having to deal with his smug ass and his husband dibs, so I'm getting my fill while I can," Bucky adds with a snicker.
"How long have you and Steve known each other?" You ask.
Bucky hums and leans with his back against Bullet.
"I... have lost count." He chuckles, quickly locking eyes with you. "We met when we were kids, then I moved with my dad for a while, but I went back to my ma's and since then Stevie and I have had each other's six."
Even if you wanted, you couldn't help but melt a little at the sweet and hidden smile in Bucky's eyes from talking about his best friend.
They sound like the kind of friendship anyone would dream of having in a lifetime.
"Adorable," you say.
Bucky laughs under his breath, and turns around to your car, clasping his hands together. "Alright. Lemme tell you everything that she's been through." He places his hands on the hood, and your throat dries a little watching the shine of his metallic left hand against the black shining painting. "Then we can go to the office, 'cause I gotta show you something," he adds in a serious tone.
When you look up at him curiously, you see the same glint in his eyes from when he recorded himself listening to Paramore for the first time.
There's a playful mirth hidden in Bucky's looks — and comments — that you noticed.
"Go head, Sarge."
Bucky explains to you calmly and very thoroughly about the three main repairs he had done on Bullet, and where the problem had originated from.
He also says, "Ah, and I changed your battery 'cause it was shitty, and I did spend the whole week listening to music on Bullet while I worked, so it was only my duty." He throws you a half-smile over his shoulder. "I'm letting you know 'cause you might notice if you open the hood, but you won't see it on the bill 'cause I am not charging. I ran it to the ground, I changed it, you're welcome."
The tone he uses and the pointed look state to anyone willing to listen that this topic is not open for discussion, so you lift your hands up in surrender.
Seeing your compliance, he gives a tiny satisfied nod. Then, he points to the inside of the shop.
"Shall we?" He chuckles. "You're gonna like what you see."
Bucky leads you through the shop and right to the main office, then closes the door behind you two.
This time, your eyes roam around the place a little bit.
You can see pictures of what you identify from afar are a bunch of soldiers, there are spaceships prototypes, and a bunch of books you hadn't seen before spread everywhere.
It turns out, the thing Bucky is so secretly giddy to show you is the answer to the riddle you had texted him days ago and he'd written on the board:
You know my thunder comes before the lightning. My lightning comes before the clouds. My rain dries all the land it touches. I'm...
Right under the riddle, there was the answer.
You point at it, smiling with your jaw fallen. "Is that Peter's?" you ask.
A burst of laughter comes out from Bucky.
"You bet." He comes around the table and sits on his chair. "Took him a while, but he got it."
You burst out laughing, too, thinking of scrawny and tall Peter furiously writing the answer on the green board in big, block letters.
The board is quite a masterpiece, you notice.
When you look at Bucky, you allow curiosity to peek its head out again. "Can I?" you point at it.
Bucky lifts one eyebrow, just like Sarah does. "Of course," he smiles at you, and gestures for you to go forward.
When you step closer to inspect, you see that the big — wide and a little tall — green board contains all sorts of messages.
Right on the center, there's a neat and talented spreadsheet with all of this month's dates and important car deliveries.
"Who's the bookwork of the shop?" you ask and start roaming your eyes around the rest surrounding the center spreadsheet.
There's the Santa Claus dick you recognize from Bucky's picture, a bunch of things in german and spanish thrown sporadically, and what you notice are book quotes.
Or maybe poems.
"Me." You spin around at the answer, and Bucky points at all the books. "These are mine."
There are so many books, and you look at all of them with growing satisfaction.
There was a time when you used to eat books like meals.
Reading pleased you immensely, but you rarely had time for it anymore.
Bucky watches your expression go from excited to melancholic, and his calm look turns into a frown at the same moment.
"What?" He asks softly.
"Sorry," you laugh, a little caught by the emotions. "I was thinking about how much I used to read. I love books. It's just... I stopped a little before I got into school and once I did—" you scoff.
It's not like you had much time to look up recommendations now.
Bucky watches you for few more heartbeats, then points at the board again.
"What's your favorite quote from there?" He asks.
You're pulled out from your blues with the question, and turn around to read all of them again.
Then, your eyes read on a small footnote on the right side.
The handwriting is elegant, yet messy.
could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
Your heart seems to forget how it is that it beats, and you feel your jaw dropping one more time.
Your body turns around slowly towards Bucky, eyes almost glued to the quote, not wanting to let go. "Where is that from?"
Bucky looks in the direction you're pointing, and his eyes widen. "Oh." He looks up at you with the saddest smile you've ever seen on his beautiful face. "That's the best and the saddest book I've ever read in my life," he tells you in a low voice, emotion dripping from every word, as if he's feeling the power of the story webbed into his heart strike him right there. "I can lend it to you, but it'd break your heart."
It seems like the world stops for a second for you.
Bucky's sitting there in the morning light streaming from the glass walls, looking at you expectantly and all you can think about is whether this man was carved from gold or your dreams.
Was he real?
"I haven't read a book in ages but, yeah—I'd love to," you laugh, surprised at his offer and how happy the simple question makes you.
Happy and seen, somehow.
Bucky Barnes has known you not even for a full month and yet, here he was, making your inner child feel giddy and more pleased than in a long time.
"Hold on," he gets up with a smile and goes shuffling around his books, then walks to you with a small and well-cared-for example of a book called The Song of Achilles.
You read the summary at the back with hungry eyes, and when you're done you look up at Bucky. "Oh my god."
He laughs again. "I know."
"This is your favorite book?" You confirm with a smile, twisting the book around like you're touching something precious.
"Yup." He goes back to his chair and turns on his computer. "What's yours?"
"Love Is A Dog From Hell," you answer with a square smile. "I was really into Bukowski when I was a teeanger, but that one really stuck."
Bucky's jaw drops a little, too. "You like that book?"
Bucky smiles. "There is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock..." his voice drifts off, and then he shakes his head. "That one fucked me up for a long time."
Recognizing one of the poems from the book, you take a seat in the chair in front of his desk.
"Isn't he a bastard?" You ask with passion.
One question is all that's needed for you two to start a conversation about the numerous reasons why Bukowski can make you drunk on feelings you've never felt.
In only a few minutes you realize Bucky's just like the friends you used to have back in high school, the ones who shared a cigarette with you under the bleachers and talking about things most teachers were too old to even consider.
It's so nice to speak with someone who listens intently to your point before sharing theirs, and you noticed while talking to him that apart from Sarah, no one else in your life now has a talk this nice with you, this easy.
He laughs numerous times at your smartass comments and adds plenty of his own.
When you ask him, "Oh—you know I won't be able to finish this soon, no matter how much I want to, right?" sheepishly shrinking your shoulders. "I really lost my touch and my focus is piss poor lately. That on top of the fact that I fall asleep on top of books now like I went to school for that, and—"
"Y/n," he interrupts you for the first time. "You're a busy woman. It's fine."
The 'woman' and the certain look he gives you makes something inside of you quiver.
"Okay." You pocket the book, then ask him to continue his point with a hand gesture. "Go on. The similitudes between Madeline's depictions and Illiad..."
With a quick scratch to his nape, Bucky goes right back to talking.
Time slips by through your lines about your favorite stories and his points on the poetry that never left his mind.
Steve is the one to burst your bubble.
Bucky notices him first through the glass window, and when he enters after a couple of light knocks, he stops under the threshold with a surprised expression.
"Sarah said something about you two getting early dinner before work?" Steve asks you with curiosity.
Why is he mentioning early dinner?
You take your phone out of your pocket and when the time stares back at you, space and time disappear from under your feet for a second.
"We just spent an hour talking," Bucky echoes your thoughts behind you.
With a glance, you see he's checking his computer's clock, too. "Shit." He looks at Steve. "Is Marcos here already?"
"Not yet, but he will be soon," answers Steve.
"Alright, I'm—we're wrapping up here." He gives Steve a nod. "Tell Sarah and the kids I'm coming to say hi in a couple of minutes?"
"Sure." Steve looks from Bucky to you. "Is it true you're into Harleys?"
Well, it seems Bucky's been sharing your conversations with his best friend, or least some of it.
"Yeah," you answer.
He enters the office and through the glass window, points at his station that's a few meters away across from it.
Your eyes follow the direction his finger points and finds it—a Harley Easy Rider painted almost entirely in baby, soft pink.
"Oh my god." Who the fuck would do that to a Harley? "Are you responsible for this sacrilege?"
That seems to be the appropriate answer, because Steve throws his hands up in the air and almost yells. "Thank you!" He turns around to point at Bucky. "I told you this goes beyond taste. No one should do be allowed by law to do this," he whines a little.
Bucky laughs at you two. "Well, she paid you good—no, she paid you great amounts of money to be done, pal." Bucky leans back against the chair. "You better get started on that coat of gloss paint and make that Barbie ride real smooth and shiny. Pink, gloss shiny."
"God, I hate rich people," Steve sighs. With a final look at you, he opens a sad smile. "Good to have someone else around with common sense on their shoulders, ma'am." He turns around to leave and right before closing the door, adds in a sing-song voice. "Don't take too long!"
You and Bucky share a look. We really got lost in our own world, huh?
After the smile returns to your faces, he opens the door he had initially gone through when he first got here.
"Shall we?" he pulls up a book and you sit down, ready to start paying him for his hard work.
He shows you the paperwork, runs you through all the needed things briefly one last time and you pay just like you two discussed, one-third of the money now, and the other two-thirds to be paid in debit in a fortnight, then another fortnight after that.
Bucky asks no questions about where you get all your money from or makes any jokes and you appreciate it—your anxiety whenever paying for things can eat you up enough alone without someone prodding into your windows.
When you two leave his office, you're clutching your backpack closer to you, thinking about the new addition in it.
Bucky said you could return it until one of the last payments, so at least two more times you were ought to see each other, even if for a brief payment transition.
Sarah and the kids all gush and hug Bucky when they see him, and you stand at the side watching the interaction with a smile on your face.
Bucky has to bid you all goodbye sooner than later because another client of his arrives.
The look he gives you and that shy, slow-wave right before you leave the shop's sight stays burned behind your eyelids all weekend as you work.
had your coffee yet?
not yet hold on
"you would not be displeased, i think. with how you look now."
my face grew warm. but we spoke no more of it.
yeah i know lol
this whole scene is beautiful
the love?!?!? and the soft tenderness?!?!?!??!?!?
can you IMAGINE greece's biggest hero and warrior
BLUSHING at the soft touches. i am SPEECHLESS
how much coffee have you had
did you get any sleep??
wow would u look at the time ! i must be on my way ! have a brand new car to drive to school!
y/n. get back here
oh my god if you faint from the caffeine and the alck of sleep im gonna feel sofucking bad
please eat something
ah. you're eating
good.. that's good
i'm glad you're liking the book, darlin
please get some sleep today tho
pretty sure i won't have a say in it
praying i dont fall asleep while walking
say amen, buck
say u wont drink any more coffee today pls
im genuinely worried for ur heart
no more caffeine today
pinky promise, sargeant!
thanks, lady bullet
have you ever heard of anne sexton
What you imagined was:
Bucky would deliver you the car, answer your final texts and after that, communication with him would slowly come to an end. The messages would get further and further in between (as it had happened with many acquaintances, potential friends and not) and that would be it.
Only polite nods and professional talks when you eventually did see each other.
What happens it:
The topic of literature steals at least two hours of sleep for the next two days, and when that changes to the current industry of entertainment, you found yourself texting even during lecture sometimes (only in the ones which the subjects you’d covered the reading beforehand, naturally).
October ends with you getting to know Bucky and one single thought growing in your head: you had told Sarah inviting him for your birthday made no sense given how you two didn’t talk, and now all you did was that. Talk to him.
By the time the second week of November rolls around, you can’t imagine not inviting him for your day. You want him there.
You two didn’t spend the whole day talking, you were both busy adults and thankfully, Bucky wasn’t the type of person to be bothered by hours of silence and sudden subject changes. Still. You didn't talk all day long, but you were talking almost daily.
You had to tell Sarah.
The opportunity presents itself through a picture and one of his texts.
why do we like the wilsons again?
god the dramatics
filed attached: a picture of Steve leaning against the reception counter with a happy grin on his face, Sam leaning from the other side with the same expression on his face.
i wonder why 🙄 sam keeps thst old bike 🙄
sure it was a great gift from steve but 🙄
whY kEEp It 🙄
You snorted looking at the screen.
Sarah lifts her eyes from the notebook, then glances back down with the hint of a smirk on her face.
“S?” you call, typing away an answer.
“Remember how I said Bucky would probably stop talking to me?” You send the answer (cause they’re nice n funny, and they’re great cooks) then look up at her. Sarah’s typing away, only the glint of curiosity on her face giving away the fact that she’s listening.
“I do, yes.”
“We’ve been talking.” When she looks up at you, you’re biting the side of your nails, smiling sheepishly behind your hand. “Friendly talking, you know. And now I wanna invite him for my birthday. It’s not too late, is it? Is it weird? I mean. He’s friends with your brother, and your brother’s kinda my friend already which is why he insists on taking over a grill for my day even though I didn’t ask, and—I could ask him, right?”
Sarah’s smile on the corner of her lips turn it into a full smirk.
“Just ask him, babe.” She looks back down at the computer, typing away again. “He’ll say yes.”
“Really?” you forcefully put both your palms on top of the books to stop taking your anxiety out on your poor fingers. “Cause you said he’s not big on parties.”
“He isn’t, yes. But mostly cause of their crowds.” Sarah shrugs. “Your party will be at Sam’s place and that’s basically one of his homes. There won’t be many people.” She looks up at you kindly. “He seems to enjoy your company if he’s still talking to you—he’ll say yes.” Her next chuckle is accompanied by a teasing smile. “Maybe I’ll even get to see some of that funny Sargeant you and Sam got to meet but I rarely ever see.”
You look down at your phone.
true but your wilson is scary in the kitchen
are you intimidated by sarah 😏
she threatened to cut my balls off once
it was a misunderstanding but still
she wasn’t jk
i know she wasn’t
You have to stifle your laughter behind your hand.
“He’s intimidated by you, S.”
Sarah stops typing again. “Ah.” Her smile grows again. “Still?” She goes back to her essay with a giggle. “I’ll make sure to smile to him next time.”
"Which will be at my birthday," you announce, deciding right there that you will muster up the courage.
Sarah looks up from her notebook and smiles at you. "Yup." Her eyes glance towards the piece of paper that's lying between the pages of my book. "Ugh. You already finished yours, didn't you?" Rolling her eyes, she answers to herself before you even open your mouth. "Of course you did."
You throw her a cheeky wink and let her go back to her own essay, keeping your phone inside your purse for the rest of your studying time.
Once Sarah finishes her own paper, you two close all your textbooks and spend the last hour of the day before Sarah picks up her kids from the other Sarah's house — Steve's mother — talking in hushed whispers about all the latest gossips and random things that pop up in your phones and in your heads.
Although you sounded very sure when stating to Sarah that you would invite Bucky, as soon as you're away from her bright persona and brave, encouraging smile, the usual nasty little thoughts start creeping their heads in.
What if he doesn't like you that much? What if he doesn't wanna hang around your friends? Bucky can find you a weirdo for inviting him to a party after knowing him personally for so little.
You clutch the steering wheel of Bullet, trying to shame those insecurities back into a drawer, back them into a corner of your brain.
Salvation comes in the form of Hozier.
Lost in your own negative thoughts, you'd missed the beginning of the song, but the moment you notice, it's like a surge of braveness.
You know better, babe, you know better abbe than to smile at me like that...
His coy smile, barely lifting the corners of his mouth, but still managing to call the crinkles on the corner of his eyes pops up in your mind.
Before you realize what you're doing, you're pulling up on the side of the road and taking your phone out of your pocket.
The twilight of this particular Tuesday paints the sky in the prettiest colors. You notice that while biting the corner of your nails, listening intently to the ringing of the phone.
You lower the sound system, as Hozier continues.
I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born... You'll hear me... howling outside of your door...
You hear the click of the sound coming through and you feel your palms start sweating a bit.
"Well, this is new." Bucky greets you. "Hello, darlin'."
"Are you busy? Is this a horrible time?" There's only so much of your anxiety you can rail in at a time. "I'm sorry I didn't text before I called, I know you're busy with—"
"Y/n," he interrupts you. Bucky's been getting better at noticing your rambles of anxiety and cutting them short, much to your pleasure (and less embarrassment). "I'm not busy, no. I mean. I'm still at the shop, but it's just me and Steve finishing up a few things. We kinda like it here."
There's that breathy chuckle on the other side of the line you love so much, and you take a deep breath with the ease and calm tone of Bucky's voice.
"So you can talk," he concludes his thought. You think you can hear the sound of the wheels of Bucky's mechanic creeper, but you could be wrong. "What's up?"
"Well. Hozier started singing your favorite song and I ended up pulling up at the side of the road as an impulse."
One of the tools you learned in therapy was to channel your anxiety and let your words flow—the unsaid bothered you plenty, and what if scenarios could drive you insane if you bottled things up too much.
Bucky didn't seem to mind. Most of his chuckles and head shakes came from the things you blurt out, just like now.
"It Will Come Back is a good reason to watch the sunset." The sound of the shop fades and changes, and you imagine Bucky walking towards the back patio for some reason. "When it isn't cloudy I can always notice this time of the day 'cause the whole light of the shop changes."
"That must be pretty," you muse.
"It is," he answers lightly. "I don't think you called me to watch the sunset together, though. And it definitely ain't for that beauty you're driving 'cause I know I did a good job. Unless—is it her?" He adds with a worried tone right after.
It's your time to chuckle.
The sky's turning the loveliest shades of blue, dark orange and pink.
"Nah, Bullet's good."
"Oh—okay. Thank god," he chuckles.
"Yeah." You take a deep breath. "I did have a question."
Bucky hums on the other side of the line. "Never heard you worried before askin' something before."
"Well—" you clear your throat. "It's an invite, but I don't want you to feel pressured or anything 'cause from what I've heard, you're not the biggest on... celebrations."
Bucky's silent for a second, and his next hum sounds a little confused. "Uhm... isn't it a bit early for Christmas parties?" He tries, and his tone says he was going for a joke.
It makes you laugh. "It is, silly. But my birthday's in a couple of weeks, so..." you trail off, then smack your teeth. "I'd like you to be there. Dunno if you heard it through the grapevine yet or not, but Sam apparently likes me enough to wanna host a barbeque for me. It'll be me, a couple of friends from university, my younger sisters and actually a couple of teachers of mine I'm really close to, but that's it." You breathe again before continuing. "You could invite Steve, too, and the other boys if they'd like to come. Y'all know Sam so it could be fun for you all, too. I'd love to get a chance to talk to them. No need for presents or anything—maybe some beer? But yeah. You guys would be very much welcome."
Very much welcome. God, why does She let you ramble?
"You're very cute when you're nervous, you know." The way he states it makes it seem like not a question, and before you can pick up your heart from Bullet's floor, he adds with a happy voice. "'Course we'll come. Sam had mentioned something about being busy in a couple of weeks but hadn't said why. I just imagined he was gonna cook Steve another delicious and ridiculously nice dinner or somethin' like that."
"Oh." You open the eyes you hadn't noticed you closed. He's coming "Yay! That makes me happy," you giggle, holding your desire to clap at how delighted you are that Bucky not only agreed, but did so that fast.
Bucky laughs a little on the other side. "Good. I don't mind parties where I'm wanted that much," he jokes.
"Good. Just don't forget some alcohol and you'll definitely be wanted there," you tease back.
It works—the heartwarming laugh you love so much comes through the line.
"Duly noted: I'm only wanted if I bring offerings."
"Well—I'll be there. I'll extend the invitations, too, and I'll text you if any of them confirms it, kay?" Bucky tells you, sounding almost as bright as you felt right now.
The sunset sky had been prettier, but for the first time, you enjoyed a conversation more than you did watch your favorite time of the day.
"See you then, darling," he adds in a lower voice.
"See you, Sarge."
When you two hang up, you have to sit there another moment now assimilating the fact.
Bucky will be at your party.
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summer days and sundresses
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
request: “maybe Bucky’s kryptonite are sundresses. He can’t control his reaction since he has feelings for the reader but never voiced them. It makes him act when he see’s others reactions and leads to pent up sexual tension sex because the both have been dancing around each other not admitting their feelings. SMUT and fluff please!” - @msunravelled
word count: 2.5k
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, swearing, semi-public sex, definite sundress kink, exhibitionism kinda, minors DNI
“Morning, Buck.” Steve and Natasha chorused as Bucky walked into the kitchen. He gave them a sleepy smile before making a bowl of cereal.
He joined the both of them at the island. “So, you have any plans today?” Steve asked, looking towards Bucky. He shook his head, still barely awake. “Come on, Barnes. It’s our day off. You should go out and do something. Maybe you could finally ask out you-know-who.” Natasha said, smirking at Bucky.
Bucky instantly straightened up in his seat and glanced around the room to make sure you were nowhere to be seen. The pair couldn’t help but giggle at his wide-eyed expression.
“She could hear you.” Bucky hissed. Bucky wasn’t normally super paranoid or jumpy, everything was different with you. Everyone knew Bucky was head over heels for you, well everyone except you.
“Why don’t you ask her out? You’ve liked her for two years. I guarantee she likes you too, but she won’t be single forever.” Steve explained.
The only thing that scared Bucky more than confessing his feelings was seeing you with another man.
The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. You both had come so close to finally confessing, but it never happened. The team had been rooting for you both to finally get together.
They noticed the giddy smiles on your faces when you were alone together. They noticed how your eyes always found each other from across the room. They noticed how you both danced around your feelings for two years.
Then, you walked in.
Bucky was fucking mesmerized. He froze in his seat as his eyes trailed over your floral sundress. “Good morning guys.” You said, with a kind smile.
“Wow,” Bucky mumbled under his breath. He noticed how his heart sped up as he laid eyes on you. The dress ended right below your ass and fit you perfectly.
“You look amazing. This dress is gorgeous. Wouldn’t you say so Barnes?” Natasha started with a genuine compliment, but was always acting as a wingwoman.
Bucky choked on his cup of coffee, and he felt his face become eight different shades of red. “What? Do you not like it?” You asked. You had picked the dress out specifically hoping Bucky would like it, and you were really worried that it had the opposite effect.
“No no no. It’s great, it really is.” He rambled, having to mentally remind himself to look at your eyes and nothing else.
Bucky was reminded of why he had never asked you out: you made Bucky nervous, really nervous.
All he wanted to do was tell you how pretty you were and kiss you. Every time he tried to ask you out, he would say the wrong thing. Two years of pining had really gotten to him. There was no pressure towards the beginning, but now he wanted it all to be perfect.
You and Bucky knew how to perfectly press each other’s buttons. No one knew whether or not you both did it on purpose.
“I’m going to go out with some friends. I’ll see you all later.” You said, smiling as you left the compound.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” Bucky muttered under his breath. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands. The stool squeaked against the floor as Bucky forcefully stood off and marched towards his room.
“Have fun with your cold shower, Barnes.” Natasha joked, unable to keep the smirk off her face. Bucky’s response was simple: his middle finger flying up as he walked away.
Somehow everyday it got harder for Bucky to keep his feelings a secret. Sometimes that was because all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and tell you how much you meant to him. Sometimes it was because he wanted to pin you against the wall and make you scream his name. At this moment, it was the latter.
After a very long shower, Bucky knew he needed a distraction.
He headed out the side doors of the compound and walked over to the outside gym, where there were various weights and training equipment.
When a car pulled up in the driveway, it naturally took Bucky’s attention. He quickly noticed you in the passenger seat, and then he noticed a guy in the drivers seat. He felt his fists clench at his side as he watched the man’s gaze.
This mystery guy was having a hard time not letting his eyes roll down your chest. Finally, after what felt like years to Bucky, you got out of the car and the mysterious man drove away.
You quickly noticed Bucky outside. He was the only one around and he was shirtless, so it’s no surprise he caught your attention.
“Hey, James.” You said, giggling as you walked up to him. Bucky groaned and tried to hide his smile. He placed down his weights and took a sip of his water. “I told you not to call me that.” He said, leaning back against the cold, concrete walls of the compound.
Bucky hated when everyone called him James, but something in him almost found it cute when you did it. He couldn’t let you or anyone else know that though.
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as you walked closer to him. “That’s a really pretty dress.” Bucky said, surprised that he actually said it out loud.
You gave him a small appreciate smile. Neither of you knew what to say. Bucky’s mind raced as he tried to come up with something to say.
“So how was your date?” He asked, the words once again coming out of his mouth before he thought them through. He wanted to hit himself in the face. He knew it made him sound jealous, but it just slipped out.
He waited, anxiously, for your reaction. You just stood there with your eyebrows furrowed, until you finally realized what he meant. “That wasn’t a date, Bucky.” You assured him. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why do you seem so relieved that it wasn’t a date?” You asked, a small smirk forming on your face. For the first time, you were taking a step towards confessing your feelings, or getting Bucky to confess his.
Bucky's eyes went wide. Part of him thought he misheard you.
He couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought, so he stood there in silence.
It forced you to make the next move.
You took a few more steps towards him, so you were only inches apart. You placed your hands on each of his shoulders. You were reminded that he was shirtless, as the heat radiated off his chest. “Were you relieved that it wasn’t a date?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.
The close proximity gave Bucky the perfect view down the front of your dress. He forced himself to look into your eyes and tried to ignore how close you were to him. He shut his eyes for a second, trying to stop the effect your dress was having on him.
“You have no fucking idea.” He said, quickly before pulling you into a kiss. You kissed him back instantly, letting your hands caress his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.
He loved the feeling of your body pressed up against his. It felt perfect.
He quickly spun you around and pinned you against the wall. He ran his hands up and down your sides, wanting to touch you everywhere. He’d dreamed about what it would be like to hold you. It was passing all his expectations.
Your mouths met in a quick and passionate kiss. The kiss was rushed. You both had wanted each other for too long.
His tongue grazed over your bottom lip. You whimpered as he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“This dress has been driving me crazy.” He mumbled against your lips. His hands slipped under your dress and he grasped at your ass. “I hoped you would like it.” You said, smirking.
You pulled away to gasp for air, resting your head against the building. He peppered kisses down your collarbone, stopping once he got to the top of your dress. He left wet kisses all over your chest.
You noticed how his eyes had darkened with lust. He quickly looked around, making sure the two of you were alone. “Hey, I have an idea.” He whispered, cupping your face. You could tell from his expression that it was going to be a naughty idea.
“I wanna take you right here, sweetheart.” He told you, placing kisses in the palm of your hand. You felt like your face was on fire. You quickly looked around the empty yard.
No one was around, but anyone could come outside at any moment.
“Are you turned on?” He asked, as you squirmed under his gaze. You felt even more embarrassed as he figured you out. “But it’s so risky,” you complained.
He pulled you into another quick kiss. “I know that excites you. I can see it in your eyes, sweetheart.” He said, cupping your ass through your dress.
“Fuck me, Barnes.” You said, simply. As soon as you gave him permission, his hands were up your dress. He cursed under his breath when he felt how wet you were.
It was sinful. He should have been ashamed by how turned on he was already. He couldn’t help it. He had been dreaming of this moment for years.
His hand slipped under your lace panties. “You alright there, James?” You teased, feeling his erection pressed against your leg.
“You’re fucking dripping.” He mumbled, a quiet moan falling from his lips. You continued to smirk. You moved your hand under your dress and guided his fingers through your folds. “You gonna finger fuck me or are you just teasing?” You questioned.
The question brought him back into reality, and he curled his fingers inside of you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against the wall. “Not so cocky now, huh?” He said, proceeding to push his fingers in and out of you.
You jutted your hips against his hand. “That’s what I thought.” He said, chuckling. You made no effort to hide the moans that effortlessly fell from your lips.
He pushed his thumb up against your clit and drew tight circles. You squealed. His hand clasped over your mouth, while applying more pressure to your clit. “Gotta stay quiet,” he told you. You nodded your head.
You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back your moans. “You look so fuckin’ sexy when you do that.” Bucky said, meeting your lips in a kiss. You could feel his very prominent erection, still pressed up against your thigh.
You palmed him through his gym shorts, which weren’t leaving much to the imagination. “Oh, baby. What are you doing?” He moaned out.
“We can both feel good, just keep going.” You told him. He nodded, returning his attention to you. He added another finger, causing you to gasp. You gripped his cock through his shorts.
He noticed that you were already pulsing around his fingers. “Are you close?” He mumbled, breathlessly. You nodded, biting down on your lip. He moved his fingers faster. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder, you were panting as you slipped your hand into his shorts.
You tried to focus on making him feel good, but all you could think about was how close you were. You wrapped your hand around his cock, earning a groan from him.
“I’m really…almost,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut. You came on his fingers, calling out his name. “There you go, sweetheart.” He said, coaxing you down from your orgasm.
He moved your hand out of his shorts. “I want you to finish too.” You told him. He shook his head. “Please just let me fuck you up against this wall.” His words came out as a beg.
You could tell how much he needed you. You pulled his cock out of his boxers, rubbing your thumb over his tip. He cursed under his breath, pushing his hips into your hand.
You heard a loud ripping sound, and then saw Bucky put your ripped panties in his pocket. “I need you.” He mumbled, lining himself up. You were almost drooling as you looked down at his cock.
He slowly pushed his tip into you, not wanting to hurt you. “Please go faster,” you begged him.
You were literally begging for his cock, and he couldn’t resist. His pushed himself inside of you, until he bottomed out. You mouth fell open as you tried to adjust to his size. “You feel so good around me.” He praised, pressing a kiss to your ear lobe.
He grabbed ahold of your hips before thrusting into you again. You held back a moan and tugged on his hair.
You grabbed his hands and moved them away from your hips. You moved his hands to the back of your thighs before grabbing his shoulders and jumping up.
He realized what you were doing and caught you. “Look at you so desperate to get fucked against this wall.” He teased, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He began effortlessly thrusting in and out of you. All you could do was moan as he fucked you into oblivion.
“You feel so good.” You mumbled, connecting Bucky’s lips in a kiss. His mouth muffled your moans, which was good because neither of you were trying to alert the rest of the compound to your current activity.
His lips slotted against yours. He softly bit down on your lip, earning another moan from you.
“Do you know how fucking wonderful this dress is? Is that why you wore it? Did you know I wouldn’t be able to resist you?” He whispered in your ear. His dirty words made you whimper.
When you didn’t respond, he attached his lips behind your ear. He softly sucked on the skin, surprised when you let out a loud moan. “Is that your sweet spot?” He asked, repeating the motion.
You buried your face in his neck, trying to muffle the sounds coming from you. “I love making you feel good.” He told you, speeding up his pace.
The sound of his wet thrusts were only turning you on more. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Me too,” you mumbled.
You could feel his thrusts start getting sloppier. You pushed your hips forward to meet his. Bucky let out a low grunt as he came inside of you. His thrusts were messy as he pulled your lips into a kiss.
It wasn’t long before you were cumming. You both gasped for air, trying to recover. You wiped his hair away from his sweaty forehead.
“I am so fucking crazy about you.” He said, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you. “I’m pretty crazy about you too.” You said, with a giant smile on your face.
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